


Make It Better

by glitteringvoid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hiccups, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteringvoid/pseuds/glitteringvoid
Summary: Draco has the hiccups. Harry has the time of his life.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 102





	Make It Better

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by my own dreadful suffering of the hiccups and the internet's less than helpful ideas on how to cure it.  
> Thank you at the wonderful milkandhoney for being my beta reader, the kind comments and the title idea! 💙

Draco has the hiccups. Harry has the time of his life. 

“Would you stop—” hiccup, “laughing? I swear to Merlin, Potter, I will—” Hiccup, _again_ , and Harry is still laughing, immune to Draco’s glare. He gives up on talking, it’s not worth the effort since it’s clearly not working. While he usually thoroughly enjoys making Harry laugh, it’s a different matter entirely if it’s at his expense. Draco glares harder. 

“You look adorable though, like a disgruntled kitten.” Harry looks far too pleased with himself at the comparison. Draco throws a pillow at him. He catches it easily, but he has enough grace to tone his laughter down to a wicked smirk. 

“I might have some ideas, if you want this to end.” Draco wants that, desperately, and is about to say so when another hiccup reminds him to keep his mouth shut. Instead he settles on nodding, trying to make it look like _he_ is the one doing Harry a favour in entertaining his ideas, but it’s probably too enthusiastic to be convincing. It doesn’t matter in the end; Harry knows him far too well to fall for even his most credible mask. It’s one of the things Draco loves about him, even if it does have its disadvantages. 

Mercifully, Harry doesn’t tease him about his eagerness, although the still prominent smirk starts to worry Draco. It could mean great things, but if the smirk is aimed _at_ him, like he is prey and Harry’s ready to pounce, it mostly means that Draco is going to seriously question why he hasn’t broken up with the git yet.

“A sure-fire way to cure you of this, or anything really, is to hold your breath for ten minutes.” Harry grins at him, waiting for Draco to get it. This is not what he expected at all, did he — ten minutes, of course. Hilarious. 

Harry laughs again, enjoying his own joke more than Draco did and this time anticipating the pillow and ducking away. He delights in Draco’s suffering far more than would be decent. Draco tries to tell himself that his joy is _not_ infectious, absolutely not. It doesn’t stop his own smile growing. 

Until the next hiccup, that is, when Draco is rudely reminded that this is _not_ fun and robbing all his amusement. 

“Alright yes, in all seriousness though.” Draco doesn’t buy Harry’s sober face for a second. “Holding your breath is supposed to work.” 

Yeah, right. As if Draco would actually — another hiccup. 

This is becoming more and more irritating, testing Draco’s nerves. Draco has never been the most patient person; he was ready for this to end five minutes ago. 

“No come on, we can do it together if you want.” Harry takes an exaggerated gulp of air, cheeks full and making him look like a greedy hamster. It’s stupid and adorable and Draco doesn’t mind playing along. But he refuses to puff up like this, he will do this with dignity or not at all. 

It turns out rather more boring than Draco thought it would be, sitting here with nothing to do but keeping some air in his lungs. 

Harry still looks ridiculously charming, staring right back at him. 

Draco really should be over this by now, but every once in a while he is stunned by how beautiful Harry is. There are his eyes of course, that thrilling green sending chills down his spine; his messy hair that is exactly as soft as it looks, and Draco could spend hours braiding. His lips permanently chapped because Harry can’t stop biting them; the scar on his forehead from when they got incredibly drunk and thought fiddling with hair straighteners would be a brilliant idea — Draco is ripped out of his reverie by another hiccup, shooting through him and breaking his focus. 

“Well that clearly didn’t work.” Such a shame, Draco would have been perfectly fine with that darn pest quietly disappearing. 

“Don’t pout, we can try again, and you can gaze at me some more.” Smug prick, as if Draco had been the only one somewhat caught up. 

“It clearly didn’t help, so unless _you_ want a chance to stare at _me_ some more, I don’t see why I should have to do this again.” That was either the best or the worst thing to say, because Harry lights up at it, grinning at him full of promise. 

“You know I always love staring at you.” They have been dating for five years now, and Draco is still getting flustered when Harry flirts with him. It’s supremely unfair, considering Harry never blushes in public just because Draco kissed him on the cheek. 

“Oh! Do you know what I would _love_ to watch you do?” He is back to smirking, that smirk that means that he intends on making Draco blush and stutter and lose all composure. Harry has a delightfully filthy mouth and a vivid imagination — Draco is pretty sure he knows where this is going. “Pull on your tongue.” 

Draco was wrong. He had no idea where this was going. Still doesn’t really. “ _Excuse me?_ ” (Draco hopes that hiccup sounded indignant and didn’t ruin the effect.)

“I thought you wanted to get rid of them,” Harry gestures vaguely at him, mildly insulting actually though he clearly means the hiccups. “This is how you do it.” 

“That’s what you said about holding my breath, too.” There is no way Draco is going to pull out his tongue, Harry would never let him live it down. 

“Yeah but I have more data now. I can judge the situation better.” It sounds almost convincing when Harry says it like that, as if curing hiccups is a science and easily done when enough clues are gathered. More likely he just wants to see Draco make a fool out of himself. 

“You will forgive me when I tell you that I highly doubt that.” Harry’s smile falls and he affects a heavy sigh. And people call Draco dramatic!

“Fine, not that one then. What else, let me think … yes! Take a deep breath, close your mouth and nose, and then exhale!” Draco is sure that will look even more ridiculous than the breath-holding-thing Harry suggested. 

Maybe, if he approaches this right, Draco won’t be the only gathering blackmail material today. 

“Not sure I understand that one, how are you supposed to close your nose — and then exhale?” Keeping the smirk hidden under an innocent expression is something Draco mastered long ago, he only hopes Harry won’t look too closely. He doesn’t, almost bouncing in his excitement that Draco appears to be considering his idea. Good. 

“It sounds more complicated than it is, you just have to — I’ll show you, then you’ll get it.” This time Draco allows himself a triumphant smirk, almost not bothered by the hiccup reminding him of why they are doing this. 

Just as before, Harry takes a deep breath, cheeks blown wide. Then he pinches his nose, closes his eyes and seems to blow up even more. That is probably the exhaling part of it then. As hoped, this is better than the hamster from before, much more entertaining. The only thing missing is steam shooting out of his ears, otherwise the picture is perfect. 

Draco can’t keep his laugh down anymore, bubbling up in him and breaking free as he watches Harry trying harder and harder, forehead wrinkling and hunching in on himself. 

The sound startles Harry out of his trance-like state, looking around with wild eyes until they settle on Draco. Harry is flabbergasted for a regrettably short moment, before melting into a fond smile that Draco doesn’t mind either. 

“Glad to see you had fun.” Harry’s tone is dry, but it doesn’t conceal his affection. 

Draco is about to answer, when he learns that laughter and hiccups don’t mix well, leaving him gasping for air and unable to think of a suitable comeback. 

“You deserved that I’d say. Had you just done what I graciously proposed you could be free and, like me, completely unplagued.” Of course Harry would find a way to turn this on Draco, of course. 

“Well since I am already plagued, and now know with certainty how stupid it looks,” Harry rolls his eyes at him, “there is no chance to convince me to do this.”

Harry frowns at him, either in thought or in discontent, before his face clears and he jumps up, shouting a _be right back_ over his shoulder and runs out of the room. Another insipid idea, most likely. Draco really hopes this one works. He’s grown tired of these hiccups. 

When Harry comes back, holding a glass up triumphantly, Draco feels his hopes sinking. He doesn’t know what mysterious cure-all he expected, but surely one glass of water cannot be of much help. 

“You have to drink this, tiny sips and nose pinched. And you better do it too, because I can’t be the only one looking like a moron.” Harry grins at him, that charming grin no one can say not to, and holds the glass out to him. Draco takes it, begrudgingly and sure to let him know that. 

Drinking while pinching one’s nose is easier said than done. It’s practically impossible to drink without tilting the head in an extreme manner, because the hand is in the way of lifting the glass high enough. It results in a lot of spluttering and coughing and does absolutely nothing against the hiccups. 

It is also vastly entertaining to Harry, convulsed with laughter while Draco tries to reach the water. Draco might have played the struggle up a little, just to see him laugh. 

“This isn’t working, Potter.” He didn’t expect it to, not really, and no matter how much he enjoys hearing Harry laugh, he _does_ want to get rid of this. 

“Maybe if you would actually give it some time it would. This could take a while, you know.” Harry might have a point there, but Draco doesn’t have the patience to try stupid things for an hour just in case they stop being stupid later on. He also suspects Harry doesn’t want him to keep going because he seriously thinks it will help. 

“I’m sure this has nothing to do with your desire to laugh at me some more.” 

“Absolutely not!” Harry doesn’t even pretend to believe that, grinning widely and clearly more than fine with laughing at Draco for the entire day. “But you could also try drinking normally, of course, just from the opposite side of the glass.”

Draco doesn’t know why he tried, he doesn’t believe that it will work and he is aware it will look ridiculous, but he tries it anyway. Maybe because it’s _Harry_ suggesting it, maybe because he is that desperate, maybe because he, despite everything, quite enjoys their experiments. Not that any of this matters; none of it is a new discovery and while never said out loud, Harry is well aware of his influence on Draco. 

Apparently strong enough to be directly responsible for Draco spilling an entire glass of water on his shirt. There’s a very good reason people don’t usually drink like that, tipping it up under ones chin feels awkward, looks even worse and will only result in the water flowing down the neck at the first hiccup to rattle the fragile construction. 

Draco should have expected that. He didn’t. Harry did, though, completely unsympathetic and laughing again. 

That’s it, no matter how much Draco loves to make him laugh, there has to be a line _somewhere_. There are also more dignified ways, he has a weakness for terrible jokes that Draco usually refuses to tell but look rather appealing now. 

“Don’t pout, Draco. I’m sorry, alright? I promise I will stop laughing.” Harry does an admirable job of trying to suppress his laughter. He doesn’t succeed, swinging between manic giggles and a somber expression. Draco is _not_ going to forgive him that easily. 

“I’m going to get a new shirt and you better think of a way to make this disaster up to me.” Harry sits up straight, laughter replaced by a smirk. Draco freezes. 

“I already have an idea for that. There is something else they say cures hiccups.”

As if summoned, Draco hiccups. They both ignore it. 

“If you still want to try, that is.” When has Harry gotten this close? He is leaning far into Draco’s space, breathing on his face, staring at his lips. Well, Draco is not going to give up trying _now_. 

He leans forward to meet Harry in a kiss, not even caring if it helps with the hiccups. It probably will. There is little Harry’s kisses can’t fix. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!  
> If you liked this you can [reblog it on Tumblr](https://glitteringvoids.tumblr.com/post/189276371248/make-it-better)


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